Archive for April 2009
I have been awfully quiet on the blogging front lately, I know.
I’m going through a bit of a phase, what can I say?
A phase of not being on the computer much, shock, horror. lol. Yes, me. The computer addict.
And by computer addict, I don’t mean someone who is good with computers and knows lots of technical stuff. No, I mean someone who likes *rsing around on facebook and blogs for half the day.
Ironically, I have pretty much 24/7 access to the computer now because Michael bought himself a snazzy laptop. (Which is very cool, I must say.)
But alas, I have been otherwise occupied. Preoccupied might be a better word for it. I am actually in a bit over my head with this exam I am sitting on 20 May. (Yes, I got the written notification of the date in the post). I might not make the grade. It is a distinct possibility. But I am not going down without a fight. And if I don’t make it this go round, I will try again.
Would really like it if I could make it this go round, though
On a different subject, the results of the first round of the photographic competition were announced. I didn’t get a place but am not too put out, as the winning photo’s were very beautiful, plus now I get the chance to enter the second round.
My Double Delight rose bush and my Burning Sky one did me the huge favour of making one exquisite bloom each, at the same time. They are in pots so I pushed them together and took a photo. It kinda looks like the one is leaning over to whisper sweet nothings into the other’s ear.
I am hoping this might win me a prize. (The prize is not monetary per se, but they do give you 20 rose plants of your choice, which I think is better than money
Anyway, I would love to know what my readers think of my chances with this photo. I put a lot more thought and effort into this one. I even dusted off my tripod and rigged it up for the event. And got up early(ish) in the morning when the lighting is right!
So tell me what you think, dear readers…
Oh yes, and I also had to lug pots around to provide the proper ‘background foliage’. In the first photo I took there was dog poop in the background. I’m guessing that won’t earn me bonus points from the judges, lol.
I couldn’t post the cheeky photo that I took after all. I lost my nerve and also, Michael vettoed it. lol.
He actually thought it was a cute photo, until he realised that the subject was me and that I was planning on posting it on my blog.
Then he just said in an incredulous voice, “You can’t do that.”
It is a bit risqué, so I opted to keep this the tasteful, family blog that it is, lol.
Sorry for being a tease, though
Here is a cute photo of Bluebeary and Michael instead…
It is so cute how she perches her two back paws on Michael’s hand, and hooks her front paws over his arm.
We have practically worn a path for our personal use with the up and down to Johannesburg lately!
Still, once again, I’m in no position to complain so let’s leave it at that.
Yesterday we were up at 4am. Not a nice time to get up, for the record.
The good part about the whole thing was witnessing a really spectacular sunrise en route to Jozie. One of those ‘huge orange balls of fire rising from the bowels of the Earth’ kind. I don’t know, maybe that is the only kind you get – I don’t see ‘em all that often, lol.
Also, in the mistiness of the early morning, were small family groups of guinea fowl next to the road, which I love. My favourite kind of bird. They are so cute, I would love a couple as pets, but I don’t think Beary would appreciate the fact that they are not for chasing.
Then there were the wildflowers blooming. Plenty and plenty of Kosmos next to the road, in huge clusters. Kosmos grows every year ’round about this time but I have never seen it quite so prolific and gorgeous before. I actually wanted Kosmos in my bridal bouquet when I got married, but the lady who did my flowers said that they would wilt too quickly. She may have had a point, as they are very delicate flowers. But so beautiful. Come spring, I am going to plant some in my garden.
Got to my first appointment, which was an unscheduled pulmonary lung function test. Apparently my scores are slightly down from what they were at baseline, starting the extention phase. They gave me a bronchio-dilator (puffer) to use after half the tests were done so that they could see if it made a difference to the second half. There was a slight improvement. I’m not sure if this means that I have a touch of asthma or what. The doc didn’t seem concerned. As he put it, it was practically negligable, the difference.
They had a little laugh at me then, because they asked if I have been exposed to an environmental hazard since my last visit. I said I wasn’t sure.
The doc gave me an odd look, so I elaborated, telling him that I am so sensitive to chemicals that every time someone sprays a shot of DOOM (insecticide spray) in the air, or lights up a cigarette then I feel like I am being exposed to an environmental hazard.
The doc (a tad impatiently) said, so you haven’t actually been exposed to a hazard?
Well, nothing…Chernobyl, I said, grudgingly.
The nurse started giggling at that, repeating ‘Chernobyl’ under her breath.
After that, off to the neurologist, a.k.a the trials’ co-ordinator. He asked me how it was going with me and if I had anything to report, in the way of symptoms, etc.
I said no.
Just to be clear he asked, as he began writing in my file, “So you have no problems…”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I drawled out.
His mouth twitched at that.
“…but I’m not having a relapse as such.”
Well, it’s true. I may be feeling a lot better, but I hardly have a clean bill of health. Let’s get it right.
Anyway, if it amuses him, no skin off my back. Ha ha.
Back home, stopping off briefly at a House of Coffees for some grub. Very tasty it was, too. That place rocks.
Walked through the mall afterwards so Michael could stop by the Vodashop there to check out laptops. Except, I needed to pee, so took off in the mall looking for that cute little sign that shows you the way to the loo.
I kept seeing one with an arrow pointing, and then after 50 meters or so seeing another one, with another arrow. Eventually, I had passed about five of these signs and still no toilet. Desperation was building. I don’t know if I’ve ever explained what an MS bladder is like, but it sort of gives a muscle spasm and then you have about 60 seconds to get your butt to a toilet. Not exaggerating here. Finally, the actual toilet came into view. The relief! Trotted in there, only to find a long queue of ladies waiting for an available stall. I can not cope with standing in a queue for a toilet! So I said in a loud voice, “Can I please go first? I-have-MS-and-a-really-weak-bladder.”
Without waiting for an answer, I darted into a stall that was just opening. When I came out again, I strolled past the (hostile) queue, saying “thanks-thanks-thanks” and breezed out again. Oh, how the mighty have fallen! I would have been so humiliated by that five years ago. But you gotta do what you gotta do, right?
Caught up to Michael, and said, “Let’s get out of here,” quickly filling him in on the story.
“Didn’t you want to go to the pharmacy?” he asked.
“No, I want to get out of here before I meet up with one of my bathroom buddies,” said I.
“You mean, your p*ss buddies,” he said, always ready to see the funny side.
“No, no, your p*ssed off buddies,” he ammended, having a good laugh at it.
By that time, I was laughing too. It wasn’t my fault that I had a wonky bladder. People must learn to give each other the benefit of the doubt. I have better things to do than con my way to the front of the queue in the ladies’.
When we got home, Michael had to pop into work to pay the casual wages, so I went with and then took the car to the gym. My back has a permanent dull ache going and if I don’t gym at least every second day, it starts getting really painful.
Anyway, the session in the pool was quite something. The swim club was there with their coach. Looked like high-school students.
And unless I was very much mistaken one of the lads was giving me the eye. Not so much staring as beaming a smouldering look at me across the pool. He was probably about 18 and nicely put together, even though I feel practically like a paedophile just saying it, ha ha. How his mates would have laughed at him if it came out that he was staring at an ancient old married-woman of 29 years of age. Oh, my little toy-boy, just look the other way already, you’re out of your league, buddy.
Drove home in a good mood, nonetheless, whistling ‘And here’s to you, Mrs Robinson…’
So that was Tuesday. Pretty hard to beat that for a day – chewing the cud with the cream of the crop of Joburg’s specialists, nearly peeing my pants in the mall and getting oggled in the pool at the gym by a youth nearly half my age!
Tune in for NCV* tomorrow I have something quite cheeky planned
*National Cleavage Day.